I recently read a newspaper story about a Pennsylvania company that has developed a unique way of answering telephone calls, one that's sure to be a hit with its customers.

     This innovative company, Allegheny Petroleum Products, employs someone to sit beside the telephone and answer it. The company has banned automated telephone systems.

     What a marvelous idea! An actual human answering the phone. Who's the genius that thought of this?

     The person who answers the phone has been called a "receptionist," a word that's bound to become as popular as other 1990s terms such as "computer dating," "drive-by shooting" and "bitter beer face."

     Whoever came up with this new system of answering phones should be awarded, at a minimum, the Nobel Peace Prize. He or she has contributed greatly to world peace.

     If you've ever been on hold for more than 15 minutes while trying to talk to a customer service representative, you know how frustrating it can be. It makes you want to run out and hit someone. Or at least join the Army and harass someone.

     I usually feel like slapping someone, preferably the president of the large company I'm trying to reach. The company can't afford to hire someone to answer the telephone promptly and yet its president is making millions and can afford a personal secretary, chauffeur and mistress. I want to slap them all.

     I'm even willing to do all this slapping in an arena where fighting is allowed: "The Jerry Springer Show." That would allow the entire nation to watch and cheer. And maybe other large companies would get the hint.

     Calling such companies, including my long distance telephone company, is as aggravating as visiting the Department of Motor Vehicles. First, the automated telephone system greets me, then it insults me by completely ignoring my reply. Next, it asks me to push a series of buttons on my telephone, just to keep my mind off the long wait. I often have to enter my account number, zip code, weight and shoe size.

     It's a good thing I don't have to enter my blood pressure, because it keeps rising.

     Then the automated system puts me on hold for an eternity. This kind of service makes the cable guy look prompt.

     I'm forced to listen to an inane recording that keeps telling me how IMPORTANT my call is to the company. They haven't yet spoken to me, so they must be psychic.

     Finally, just when I'm about to slam the phone down, a representative comes on the line and greets me in a bubbly voice, not realizing I'm ready to explode.

     "Hi! My name is Velveeta. How can I help you today?"

     "I'll tell you how you can help me. You can help me by getting rid of that $%#@ (expletive) automated telephone system!!!!"

     Of course, I never use language like that. I'm too much of a gentleman.

     Besides, I'm afraid she'd hang up on me and I'd have to deal with the automated system again. That would definitely make me join the Army.